2011-01-29 - Dark Viper: The Gang War Escalates
Things have been getting worse in Hobb's Bay lately. With the electricity going crazy, technology in general, and a few run away cars...it has been rough with property damage and a few low level crime riots. Shops are closing up because of the choas, and the curfew in enforcement because of the gang war is not helping. There has been talk that the gang war is over, but in reality it has only shifted its evil eye onto other targets. This is the night where it starts anew... Current Wildcat is glaring across the open expanse of road to the building across, from the roof top he sits upon. It isn't a tall building, perhaps three stories, though it is mightily dark as the electricity has gone out again. He growls low in his throat as he sees a gang of thugs breaking into the used car dealership to start stealing keys to the cars in the parking lot. It's a small place and likely wouldn't be able to afford the lost. "My nights just keep getting busier and busier," Wildcat grumbles to himself. The gangsters have orange and dark blue slipt headbands on, and are trying to keep reasonably quiet. They aren't doing a good job of it. Still, without electricity? Who's going to do something about it? They apparently have forgotten the fact that Wildcat patrols Hobb's Bay. Chalk it up to bad timing, but the used car dealership is not devoid of people this evening. Since the curfew in the area prevents the simple free movement of people, Cassandra has taken shelter in the very same dealership. She is a vagrant, a drifter, and most importantly, in need of a place to sleep. This dealership seemed ideal, with the cushy chair that the customers would use when the salesman was trying to upsell his merchandise in the comfort of his office. Bad timing not for Cassandra, but for the thugs. Her presence is detected pretty quickly, and she wakes in the midst of their shining penlight on her to get a good look at the girl they were not expecting. The surprise is mutual, and what Cassandra can see among the invaders is preparedness for violence. It is not long after they reach the antechamber of keyholding and documents that the ruckus starts. Sounds of a fight, or at least something very similar to one emit. The sounds cease after only a few seconds, and the girl who they had surprised spends time checking on them to ensure they are all alive. All of them. Wildcat is in the process of leaping down two stories to land on the roof of a car parked there. Poor car. He rolls off it and onto the street, the dent slow to return to normal after accepting his body weight. It should still be easily fixable, so he doesn't worry about. The sudden sounds of fighting are more concerning to him. Wildcat starts to jog across the street and peeks inside. He can see clearly with his night vision. A girl, a short girl! Well, short to him anyway. Not very memorable, plain appearing and looks like she has been on the street too long. But all those men! No weapons, so an assassin is unlikely...but he would have to make sure they are alive to be sure. She certainly made quick work of them, pure professional. Wildcat's blood goes cold, because he is finally meeting someone that may just be dangerous to him. It has been a long time. The step into the shadows is done carefully, keeping him into the dark recesses so he is more difficult to see clearly in a place that lacks light but the few wisps that comes through the dark and cloudy sky. "What is your purpose?" His voice is rough, holding a local Hobb's Bay accent. There is an almost growling quality to it, and one can tell he is definately an 'older gentleman' from his voice. Still, his body language is masked in the darkness. While it is dark, there is movement, which is noticable. The girl does not see it until the sound is made, not realizing someone else was nearby, she turns to face what she imagines is another wave of attackers. It takes her back to days of training, when she would be tested. Not tested for ability to fight, but tested by other observers to see her progress. She knows this is different. None of the men she had just brought down were remotely ready for the kind of opposition they faced. The one in shadow, also different. He is apprehensive rather than eager to fight. She picks up the penlight from one of the thugs, the motion graceful and without apparent malice. She shines the light before moving it over the shadowy spot, making it clear just what she has retrieved. Her response? Silence. Silence? But he doesn't pick up maliciousness from you. Or even anger, not even fear. It settles Wildcat some more. He does move forward slowly, carefully. His body is 'at ready' that much is indictacted by his movements. He is not eager for a fight true, but he will accept one if brought toward him. His outfit is smooth, and his face covered with grey accents. Whiskles? One of his hands moves toward one of the fallen gangsters, touching the neck to make sure they are alive. The two of you are close enough to be a danger to one another, but there is no aggression in Wildcat's moves, and a visible relaxation when he realizes the gangsters are alive and fine. He also seems content to let you know his location now, though he keeps his eyes on you. As long as you don't shine the light in his eyes, he is fine. "Who are you kid?" A gentleness is in his tone that wasn't there earlier, a questioning aspect to it that is less demanding. Alive, each of them. Not in good shape, but none of them with lasting injury. Nothing that they won't recover from within a day or so and a headache will be fairly major for all of them. The penlight is cut and tossed back to its original holder. She moves back to her chair that she had been using to sleep in, sitting down on it and resting her head against her hand, taking up what looks distinctly like a sleeping posture. Still, silence. Silence punctuated with a weary yawn. A scowl of frustration, "You can't stay here kid." He has to call the cops, "Come on, we have to...," but the rest is cut off as suddenly the squeal of tires are heard outside and Wildcat is already moving fast and instictive. He's moving toward you! "Down!" It's a command, sharp and demanding obedience. If he can, he will get you down to the ground or if you are fast enough to go there first, he will follow you; because the squeal of tires in a curfew night with the threat of a gang war has Wildcat reacting instictively. It is a good reaction however, as soon the sound of automated fire will burst into the car dealership and plant bullets into walls, shatter lamp shades and tear up funiture. If it wasn't for the gangster being knocked out cold on the ground, they would have all died this night. Even as Wildcat shouts that warning, Cassandra has gone from sitting on the chair to sliding down to a crouched posture, taking cover. She comprehends the same notion. Her bed-chair is now more able to provide a cool breeze for those sitting on it, with the air holes kindly provided by the gunner. Instinct takes over for the girl, too. Rather than staying out of the way she rushes, staying low, heading toward the danger. They had the advantage of not being expected, which has since vanished. The girl is giving chase. Wildcat growls in frustration as he peeks up at you running. You are crazy! What is it with kids being so crazy these days! He soon gives chase after you now! The two of you can hear the squeal of the tires of the car as it is flying down the street at a dangerous speed and leaving smoke behind when it turns a corner, which the two of you can barely notice by the two both of you make it outside. "Wait a moment!" He really doesn't want to try tackling you, he can tell you are trained and that's a little more friendly than he wants to get with you at this point. As the car gets out of reach, the girl stops giving chase. She knows she would need to be in far better condition to catch it. Thus she slows, then stops, bothered that the killers got away but not as bothered as she would be if they had succeeded in their goal of killing everyone they had thought they were shooting at. She turns to face Wildcat then, fists still clenched from what she had intended to do. Then the hardness fades from her face. It's been a more eventful week than she had been used to. Well, who would have thought that kicking the crap out of a bunch of gangsters would have saved their lives? Wildcat isn't trying to catch the car though there might have been a slim possibility, very slim. He is more concerned about this very confusing girl before him. "Whao," and Wildcat comes up short before he accidentally runs into you. He has quick reflexes. "Look kid, just what are you trying to do? Will you talk to me? I'm not going to bite." He tries to smile, but it is clear that the man is confused by your presense and what you are doing. He then tries another route, offering a boxing taped hand toward you. "Wildcat." An introduction. If questions don't work...try another route. Cassandra steps to provide better personal space distance. Not too far, just enough for general comfort zone. She does respond, though not with a word. Instead she gestures with her hand to cover her own mouth. That's all, and it's a brief gesture. It's the offer of handshake that she seems to have trouble with, notably not taking the hand in her own, but instead placing her fist in it. Wildcat stops a groan of 'dear lord, another one'! He is getting used to this actually. His other hand moves easily, non-threatening to open up your fist and place your palm against his. "Wrap your fingers about my hand kid," and he wraps his fingers about your own hand and shakes the hand up and down. Now, he is guessing you don't speak or can't speak, who knows which at this point. But he does move his still free hand toward one of his ears, tapping a rough finger against it. "Can you hear?" In turn, after being 'shown' the handshake protocol, Cassandra draws up Wildcat's hand and lands her fist into it, a light punch. Also nonthreatening, but no less assertive. She shows no sign of not knowing what was meant. When the ear is tapped, she stoops to pick up a spent shell casing, eyes closing before she casually throws it upward, waiting for the telltale ring of its landing and abruptly pointing toward it without looking where it landed. Hearing, check. "Ummm...right." Wildcat isn't sure on the punch unless it's some gang sign he hasn't seen yet. But he then nods at your example, watching your moves attentively. "Alright, just a sec then," holding up a single finger. He then moves to tug a cell phone out of the top of a boot and makes a phone call. "Hey man...ya, it's me." A pause then, "The used car dealership, some gangsters taken down, not by me." Another pause, "Doesn't matter. Point is, I get there and almost get gunned down by a drive by. The gang war isn't over." A longer pause then a grumpily response, "No, I didn't see who it was, I was too busy avoiding getting my head shot off thank you very much." A short pause then, "Ya, ya, see you at the bar sometime." He then hangs up the phone and slips it back into his boot where it fits snugly. While the phone is being used, Cassandra looks back at her picked sleeping place in dismay. She looks around the immediate area, considering other places. There aren't many that have the allure of the car dealership. Also not all of the security systems are as old as that one. She stoops then to pick up another shell casing, looking it over in contemplation. Wildcat watches you once the cell is hung up and thinks himself. He ends up shaking his head and sighing softly. He just hopes you don't kill Wilde while there, but even someone trained like you are, not speaking, mysterious past...maybe Warbird is right, he's a softie. A low growling sound comes from him, an expression of frustration toward himself rather than you, his eyes narrowed in thought. Yet, when the sirens start to be heard in the near distance, Wildcat finally reacts. He offers a hand toward you and motions with his fingers by curling them inward a few times, "Come with me," and starts to move toward a nearby building without concern, as if he merely expects you to obey. Both curious and having the desire to just go somewhere without having to put a lot of thought into it, Cassandra follows as beckoned. The police sirens help motivate her too. She does not enjoy sitting there being asked questions she has no means to answer and slipping away while backs are turned. It's a waste of time for everyone involved and just delays what she needs to do. For the moment, that is simply finding a place to sleep. Which she might find for the night with Wildcat. Or be shown one. Wildcat just hopes he doesn't regret this. Then again, he has taken in Catseye and Wilde, and who says he would be keeping Cassandra? And what is she going to do, tell people who he really is? Ha! Maybe she can write it down though, he sorta hopes so...that means less work for poor Cassie in tutoring and less work for him. Geez, he really needs a place to keep these kids! The grumbling is unclear and not meant to really be heard and understood. Wildcat is just complaining to himself as he moves up along a fire escape to a roof top and then leads the way via freerunning across roof tops. It's a skill he is proficient at. Even with Cassandra on his mind however, he still thinks about the increasingly dangerous gang war. In what is perhaps not much of a surprise, Cassandra is able to keep up with Wildcat's freerunning. Even if she can't easily chase down cars at this time she can keep up with someone leading her over the tops of roofs. It is something she knows, but something she has not needed to do for a long time. She sort of makes a game of it, matching Wildcat movement for movement just behind him. Even if he doesn't notice, she knows. Wildcat can hear the contact of your feet against the roofing, how they echo his. He leaps into the air easily to jump buildings, and lands with surprising ease. But you would be even better at it than him with your more dexterious body. Sheer talented, training, beauty. If only you weren't so obviously socially stunted, and if he could tell you were legal or not...then he would have been looking at you as something other than a stray cat. Yet, it is not to be, and he treats you like a lost kid. Soon enough, the two of you make excellent time to a new building and Wildcat slows. He leaps easily to the roofing and then lets himself down to a window from that very roof to slip inside a living room. He is home. Wildcat comes through the open window and drops into the living room quietly. It doesn't matter too much that the window was left opened, the apartment is freezing with the electricty off thanks to all the glitches in Hobb's Bay. He lands quietly on his feet and quickly steps aside for Cassandra to come in through the living room window as well. Cassandra pauses at the window rather than just charging inside, looking around at the room that the window is attached to like some kind of supernatural creature waiting for invitation before she finally crosses the threshold and steps in. It is not something she often takes the time to look at. Entering a home is somewhat unusual as an activity for her. --- New York City - Grant's Gym - Second Floor Apartment A covered private staircase leads up to the private, second floor apartment above Grant's Gym. The apartment has two bedrooms, and a little less than average sized kitchen. The living room is large with a huge flat screen television, wide couch and even a lazy boy. Along the back wall are some bookcases, and a number of old photos are scattered about. Some are photos from Ted's days of glory in the ring, others are of him and his fellow troopers during World War II, there are also more recent ones of Ted with some of his trainees that went into professional boxing and more. The walls are full of old photos, most black and white and the more recent ones in color. The spare bedroom just has an old fashioned cot on it, and an old empty wooden dresser and closet. The main bedroom has a king sized bed, two dressers, a closet and two wooden chests which hold old memories. The kitchen has been modernized over the years, and has a nook with a small table for four. A set of windows looking out to the city's streets surround the semi-circular nook. Finally, there is a full-sized bathroom with a separate shower and bath. The bath is done in blue and white tile, as is the kitchen. The living room and bedrooms have wooden floors, with a few throw rugs put in proper places. Though the fridge may be filled with beer, this is still a home. --- With the apartment freezing, one attempts to cope however one can. In Wilde's case, at least he's covered from head to toe in fur. And isn't too old for footed pajamas, age or maturity wise. He's coming out of the bedroom, likely awoken by the noise when Ted and his new friend arrive. "When we gonna have some heat again?" He offers, with a bit of a childish whine. Though Ted's friend who's paused in the window earns a few curious blinks, and then a wave. "New friend?" He asked, looking strangely at Ted. Cassandra is still busying herself with looking around at the things that Wildcat has accumulated in his home, most of them things she knows nothing about. When she discovers that she is not alone with the home's master she regards the young boy with a lift of her hand. Of course she stares, unused to seeing furry people in or out of pajamas. For her part, she doesn't appear to be bothered too much by the cold weather. In silence she regards Wildcat, finished surveying her locale. "Hey Wilde. No idea, I suppose when they solve whatever is causing the technology glitches." They being up in the air about who is doing the solving. The place appears clean and organized for a bachlor pad. Wildcat moves to close the window after making sure Cassandra does not appear uncomfortable or frightened. "As for the new friend, I'm not sure who she is. She's a trained combantant, and not a murderer. She also can't or won't talk. She can hear but her ability to understand is...I'm not sure yet." He doesn't want to make assumptions. "Kids like you guys seem to gather in Hobb's Bay. I'm not sure what else to do," he admits honestly. "You all deserve a chance at life." Wilde's used to the strange looks, so the one from Cassandra doesn't bother him much. Especially when he's currently occupied with taking a good long look at her in turn. Strolling around her in a circle, trying to get a read on her. "How you so sure she's not a murderer?" He wonders, looking strangely at Wildcat. A single curious finger reaches out to poke Cassandra in the belly, a bit too curious for his own good. "Place is gonna get crowded quick." Cassandra reads like... a ready combatant. And someone who needs sleep. But for the moment she is mentally occupied. Poking meets muscle, momentarily tightened. She looks unsure of how to proceed with the interaction, lips pursed. "She took down an entire gang of individuals in less than a minute and not a single casuality. She's good Wilde. Enough to make me think twice." Which he never does with Wilde, he deals with the kid without hesistation. Ted then nods, "I know, but not sure what else to do right now. I'll think of something." He goes to motion toward the couch. "You can sleep there." And then makes a drinking motion toward his mouth. "Want something to drink kid?" He then adds, "Wilde, if she kicks your ass, I'm going to point and laugh. Leave her alone." His tone sounds warning toward Wilde. "Maybe...." Wilde rubs his chin jus a little, continuing to look Cassandra over. When Ted comments that she could kick his ass, and that he'd laugh when it happens... Wilde just grunts a bit under his breath. "I could take her." He huff just a bit and pokes her in the belly again, before turning towards Ted. "You'll be sorry one of these days, when I show you." For all the talk of comparisons in fighting, Cassandra does not attempt to prove Wildcat correct, nor demonstrate anything about it. Instead, she offers a gesture that would be familiar to those who watch old kung fu movies. Her right fist is brought to her left palm, her head lowered momentarily and eyes closed. Without responding to the question of drink, she moves to the couch, testing it with a light bounce. "So terrified," Wildcat says in a neutral though slightly sarcastic. "I'm trembling." Ah, a bow. "She's showing you a sign of respect, bow in return Wilde." He gets it now, the fist geasture. He doesn't attend a dojo, so it took him a while to put it in context. Wildcat reaches up to remove his mask, having it hang down his back. "I'm going to change. Let the girl sleep, she's exhausted, and don't hover. Ah...and I got a task for you later Wilde. I want you to find the missing Catseye. She hasn't been back since you frightened her, and I'm worried about her." Wilde just blinks a couple times at the bow. Well, that's interesting. He watches her for a few moments before going to the fridge and getting a can of soda. A glower of annoyance at the teasing from Ted is shot at the feline themed hero. "Do I gotta? We already have too many people in here." He glances out the wndow. "And it's cold.... and snowy." Yeah, he knows he's likely not gonna get out of it that easily. Cassandra does not seem remotely bothered when Wilde fails to respond in kind, no change in her demeanor or expression to indicate annoyance or perceived slight. She seems far more concerned with the couch's maximum possible benefit as a bedding spot. Catching the exchange, she does grow a slight frown then, thoughtful, then it fades away. Rather than lying completely horizontally on the surface, she has her upper body resting on the side-armrest, shoes off at least, though her lack of laundry facilities suggest that her clothing might leave some evidence behind of her presence if she stays there for the duration of sleep. "Yes, because it is the consequence of your actions. It is about time you accepted more responsbility. It isn't always a pleasent thing, but it's a mature thing." He eyes Cassandra, "Let her come and go as she pleases," and he goes to head into his room to get a chance of clothes. He will leave Wilde to get bored and go back to bed since he can't watch television because of the power outage. Category:Logs